So the Irish revolution came in two parts, the cultural nationalism crowd who thought that Ireland deserved independence from Britain because it was culturally distinct--this was around the time of a huge renaissance in Irish arts what with Yeats and Lady Gregory and Synge and the Abbey Theatre and so on and so forth, all very noble and glamorous but rather an impractical thing to die for...dulce et decorum, you might say... And then there was James Connolly and co., who thought that Ireland needed independence from Britain in order to attain their broader goal for a more just, equal society, everywhere. "But don't let them wrap any green flag around me and for God's sake, don't let them bury me in some field full of harps and shamrocks, and whatever you do, don't let them make a martyr out of me--No! Rather raise the Starry Plough on high, sing a song of freedom. Here's to you, Lily, the rights of man and INTERNATIONAL REVOLUTION!" I mean...this is my ANTHEM. And a lesson for anyone trying to get out from under the thumb of an empire without then creating a new, still more oppressive nationalism in its place. A better flag is not reason enough for revolution (or a secession, to whom it may concern...)--a better society is. The fight goes on!

Fucking brilliant. MY FEETS WAS FLYIN DOWN THE STREET JUST THE OTHER NIGHT... Nothing says "I am a hormone-crazed moron and proud of it" like this song, especially when blasted from the blown-out speakers of an overcrowded 1994 Tercel on Main Street on a summer Saturday night when there's a 30-rack of PBR hidden where the spare tire should be. Gather ye roses while ye may...

I don't think two people are referred to as "you " in this song. It's going so fast that it would flip over if it tried to corner that quickly, know what I mean? So that leaves us with Terry, one person, whether guy or girl. I think Terry is a girl, a platonic childhood friend, and their friendship ends when she moves away with a serious boyfriend. In the last verse, probably a year or more later, she comes back. She and the speaker aren't the friends they were and so they try being lovers and it just doesn't work. Just the fact that they slept with each other feels like a broken promise (tears of faithlessness, to find we're just like all the rest)... You know, when you're a teenager you have your best friend, and then all the boy or girlfriends you have are just for getting laid--you and your best friend have something better than that. Then, one day--sorry, it turns out you don't. So you wind up with no best friend, no girlfriend, and everything you thought you knew about yourself gone out the window... The only thing left is the bitterness and betrayals and abandoned dreams that lie buried under every adulthood. Oh yeah: and this is probably among the 10 best songs ever written. I mean it almost goes without saying.

16 min ago Rated 0 rate down rate up Joe wrote it for Mick to sing, I know that much. And seems I heard it was Joe writing about Mick, too, from a source other than Mick. And I happen to LIKE Big Audio Dynamite! :D I came in here for a special offer--a guaranteed personality... I was sitting in Economics lecture my sophomore year of college when the true, hideous implications of that godforsaken line hit me like a grand piano falling from the sky. I wrote it down on the desk and almost cried and spent the rest of the class staring at the wall, and, well, I dropped out of college about a month later and here I am, living on a farm, broke, stupid and happy. If you took away all your posters and your CDs and your clothes and your books and your television and your games and your house and your car and your beer and your cigarettes, would you still be you? Are we more than our material preferences? Deeper than our pockets, so to speak? Of course. Do we realize this? More importantly, do we act on this? Ahaha. Fuck no. And that, for our society and for each of us as individuals, is bound to be trouble.